


Troublemakers

by MissAdventurous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Romance, Tokyo Training Camp Arc (Haikyuu), Underage Drinking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAdventurous/pseuds/MissAdventurous
Summary: As a rule, Tsukishima didn’t docaring: not about a volleyball camp in Tokyo nor three upperclassmen he’d just met.But some rules are meant to be broken.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 9
Kudos: 315





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I consider this to be the raunchier spiritual successor to my first Haikyuu!! fic, Tumbling in Headfirst  
> I got inspired after rewatching the Tokyo Training Camp episodes again and I’m really weak for these four guys, so I hope you enjoy

The gym smelt like the unholy combination of too many bodies and boys in the midst of puberty who didn’t understand the concept of deodorant. Kuroo’s nose twitched against the rank smell, turning to look over to where Kenma had tucked himself into a corner with some sort of gameboy that had crawled its way out of the 90’s. Before Kuroo could take even half a step he felt a sudden pinch against his side.

He twisted around and watched Bokuto shove his pointer finger against him. Kuroo sighed right as Bokuto said: “Hey! You’ve been holding out on me, man! You didn’t say anything ‘bout Karasuno!” 

Akaashi batted Bokuto’s hand down and heaved out an ever-suffering sigh, “You’re so needy,” Bokuto turned an expression of scandalized shock toward him. 

Kuroo quirked up an eyebrow, “Actually, airhead, I _did_ warn you about the shrimp’s quick—“

“No, no!” Bokuto waved his arms up and down before he jabbed a finger in the direction of Karasuno’s team. “I’m talking about Number 11,” His face twisted up all dreamy and starry eyed, “The blonde with the mile long legs—”

“We need to talk about your roaming eye, Bokuto,” Akaashi rolled his eyes and took a drink from his water bottle. 

“Hey!” Bokuto’s voice came out like a shrill squawk. He cleared his throat, “C’mon, _look_ at him, Keiji.” His hands closed on Akaashi’s shoulders and steered him around to face Karasuno.

Akaashi squinted his eyes and took a long look at him. Kuroo turned to look too: the blocker in question looked so tall and lean in a pair of the extremely short gym-issued shorts and a tight tee.

With his usual unflinching, deadpan grace Akaashi said: “I’d climb him.” Bokuto’s jaw dropped open and a laugh spilled out of his mouth. Then Akaashi brushed past him with a simple, “But he’s out of _your_ league,” thrown over his shoulder.

Bokuto stayed there floundering for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping on the sidewalk. Kuroo slung an arm across his shoulders, “Oh, don’t listen to him.”

“Do you think we could get him to practice with us?” Bokuto twisted to look at him, all earnest hopefulness. Kuroo gave a squeeze to his shoulder.

Number 11 turned back to look at them for just a moment, staring down his nose like they could’ve been rats digging through garbage. Their eyes looked and he blinked— slowly and for only a second, a sliver of interest clouded his gaze. Then he looked away to glare at one of his teammates.

“You know, owl-head,” Kuroo tapped a finger against his chin, “We just might.” 

Of course, Kuroo wouldn’t have expected the veritable landmine of _The Shrimp_ to muck up all his well laid plans that night.

* * *

Sweat beaded across Tsukishima’s forehead, his glasses clouding up in the muggy air. He glanced over his shoulder toward the gym door and wondered if anyone would really note his absence. His palms itched at the thought of the AC blasting inside.

“Tsukki!” Tsukishima saw Yamaguchi waving toward him, so he pointedly looked away. 

Tsukishima squinted his eyes at the sticky pink droplet sliding its way down his wrist. He exhaled and took another bite of the watermelon. The sweet, watery taste flooded his mouth, but he barely noticed as he swallowed. He leaned back against the wall, concrete overhang above the gym door just barely enough to keep the sun from beating down on his head. 

He didn’t really _mean_ to exactly, but he looked over to where Bokuto and Akaashi stood huddled up with the rest of Fukurodani. Their teammates clapped Bokuto on the back, rapped their knuckles against his shoulders. The man in question pumped up a fist and let out a loud whoop.

Tsukishima frowned and looked away. He took another bite of his watermelon and dropped his chin into his palm. The taste soured in his mouth and he briefly contemplated spitting the fruit out. He grimaced and forced himself to swallow past the dryness in his throat.

A pair of gym shoes came to a stop briefly in front of him. Tsukishima craned his head back, looking down his nose and squinting against sunlight. A jaunty little smirk curled its way across his mouth, “So you won your match against Nekoma.”

Akaashi tipped his head toward him, “We did.” He tucked his hands into his pockets with all his devil-may-care nonchalance. Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at him. Akaashi exhaled slowly, “Don’t say anything to Bokuto— his head is too big as it is.”

Tsukishima nodded, “I’ll keep it in mind.” 

Akaashi stared at him— too hard and too long. Tsukishima didn’t quite know what to do with a look like _that_. He settled for standing up from the stoop. Akaashi locked eyes with him, then his gaze dropped. Tsukishima blinked behind his fogging glasses, he couldn’t help straightening his stance— if Akaashi wanted to check him out or if he were trying to make some point, he’d rather give him the best view possible. But Akaashi pivoted on his heel and just _left._

A furrow pulled between Tsukishima’s brows and he shot a glare toward his retreating form. Still, he couldn't quite shake the burning feeling bubbling in his gut. He dropped back down onto the warm concrete of the stoop. 

He looked to where Kuroo had walked over to sling an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders. Tsukishima’s mouth pinched up into a tight line— not understanding how they could all be so _comfortable_ with each other. And, more importantly, why his stomach felt like it could flip-flop right out of his body.

Then Bokuto twisted around and _grinned_ at him— with his infuriatingly white teeth and stupid crinkles under his eyes— Tsukishima decided to glower at him. Bokuto nudged Kuroo’s arm and Tsukishima wished he could just melt into the concrete when Kuroo looked at him. He had the audacity to hold up two fingers in a parody of a salute. Tsukishima couldn’t hear over the chatter of the other students, but it certainly seemed like he’d _whistled_. 

Tsukishima stood up and walked back into the gym. He hated how his pulse thumped in his veins. His mouth twisted up into a frown, momentary burst of shame gnawing at him: _all_ this _for a stupid club_. He tried not to slam the door on his way in. 

More importantly he tried to pretend like he _wouldn’t_ go see them to practice that night.

* * *

Tsukishima bent over, panting breath escaping from his burning lungs in a rush. Bokuto’s words came to him unbidden and he wanted to laugh: how could _this_ ever be _fun_? But something chewed at him, something dark and wanting when he looked up to see the three of them talking together. Tsukishima felt so stupid that he had to shake his head and try to chase the feeling away. 

Tsukishima didn’t mean to interrupt the three of them— huddled all close together with barely any space in between them— he’d been trying to walk past. Then Bokuto stopped him with a smile, close lipped and fond, “Hey, Tsukishima, we were just thinking—” 

“Which _is_ very hard for Bokuto,” Akaashi’s nose sniffed pointedly, wry little smirk resting on his mouth.

Bokuto twisted around, “ _Akaashi_!”

Kuroo rolled his eyes and leaned in close to where Tsukishima stood, “Wanna break curfew and escape for a bit?” 

Tsukishima’s brows crawled up toward his hairline, “Really? You want to sneak off like some sort of delinquents?” 

“Oh, c’mon, Specs,” Kuroo sauntered toward him, “Where’s your sense of adventure?” He flung an arm across his shoulders. The spicy smell of his cologne flooded Tsukishima’s nose. His nostrils twitched and he fought the urge to sink into the warm embrace.

Tsukishima twisted out from underneath his arm. A low, mean smile spread across his mouth, “If we get caught, you could get kicked out of your club.” 

Bokuto _laughed_ at him, which wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d hoped for. He waved a hand back and forth, “We aren’t gonna get caught! Have a little faith.”

“Actually when _you_ say it, I lose all faith,” Akaashi planted his hands on his hips and tipped his head to the side. Bokuto jerked around to gape at him. A smug little smile crossed Akaashi’s mouth. 

_“If_ I’m going, you’d better have something cool in mind,” Tsukishima tipped his head back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Oh, blondie, I’m sure we’ll think of something.” Kuroo’s eyes drew down dark and heady. Tsukishima felt like he had to look away. He brushed past them to go into the locker room. He heard the patter of footsteps behind him, so evidently they’d all settled on following along.

He pulled down his gym bag from atop the locker— momentarily grateful he’d packed a pair of jeans. He loathed the idea of wandering around Saitama in his gym shorts. 

Tsukishima shrugged out of his mesh jersey. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akaashi tugging on the collar of his shirt and lifting it up overhead— he could see the firm muscle of his shoulder blades, the lithe slimness of his waist. Tsukishima turned to look back at his duffle.

Tsukishima heard the loud clap of fabric. He twisted around to see Bokuto jumping nearly a foot up into the air and Kuroo clutching a towel and laughing. They were both now only partially dressed in their gym clothes and Tsukishima fought the urge to look them up and down. 

“Hey!” Bokuto rubbed a hand against his ass. Kuroo flicked the towel out toward him again. Bokuto stumbled out of the way with a broad grin and a laugh bubbling up in his throat. 

Tsukishima _finally_ tore his eyes away only to notice Akaashi looking at him. His eyes were hooded, dark and low. _Curious_ , maybe. Tsukishima’s throat bobbed, but otherwise kept his expression blank too. Akaashi tipped his head to the side, something playful flickering across his gaze. Tsukishima tipped his head back and stared down his nose at him before dragging his eyes pointedly down Akaashi’s body. _Fair is fair_ , his mind unhelpfully supplied when he thought about how Akaashi had looked at _him_ the day before.

Akaashi’s eyes flicked away and his hands hooked into the waistband of his shorts. Tsukishima looked away then too, fighting the urge to try and catch a peak from the corner of his eyes. 

Tsukishima focused on slipping into a fresh t-shirt and jeans. He’d just pulled up his fly when an arm wormed its way around his shoulders. “Ready to go, Specs?” Kuroo’s voice sounded warm and soft against the shell of his ear.

Tsukishima suppressed a shiver and shrugged him off. He twisted to look at Akaashi and Bokuto: dressed down in sweats and plain tees they had no right looking so... _good._

Bokuto lifted up an arm, grabbing his elbow and stretching up on his tiptoes. The hem of his shirt rode up and showed off a flash of his stomach. “I sure am!” 

Akaashi rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his pockets. He gestured with his chin toward the doorway, “Well, let’s go.”

Tsukishima’s heart pounded up into his throat and he couldn’t imagine saying no. Of course, he couldn’t very well say _yes_ either— so he settled for jerking his chin up and sauntering out the doorway.

* * *

The four of them hunkered down in an old, wooden building that more resembled a _shack_ than the sleek buildings Tsukishima would’ve expected so close to Tokyo. Still, the heavy scent of pork broth and sweetness of soy tickled his nose.

Bokuto reached across the table, chopsticks swiping up a takoyaki from Akaashi’s plate. Akaashi dropped his chin into his palm and just rolled his eyes.

“Wanna try it?” Bokuto held the pliffered food up toward Tsukishima. He _wanted_ to say no, but then Akaashi met his eyes and he tipped his head back in challenge.

“It’s not gonna bite you,” Kuroo felt the need to add, he settled back in his chair with a grin on his mouth. 

Tsukishima frowned and pointedly leaned forward. He bit into the crispy crust, creamy inside coating the octopus. He chewed thoughtfully past the _gamey_ , fishy taste of the meat. He wrinkled up his nose and shook his head. Bokuto laughed at him and popped the remainder of the takoyaki into his mouth. 

“It’s not horrible,” Tsukishima said once he’d managed to swallow it down. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head, “I don’t like octopus.”

“Aw, poor Specs,” Kuroo puckered up his lips and reached across the table to playfully shove at his shoulder. Tsukishima just stared down his nose at him. Bokuto scooted closer and threw an arm around the back of his chair. 

Akaashi blew out a loud sigh, “You’re like a kid pulling on a little girl’s pigtails, Bokuto.” 

Bokuto’s mouth dropped into an ‘o’, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Underneath the table Kuroo’s foot bumped up against Tsukishima’s ankle. His casual cat-got-canary smile played on the corner of his mouth. “Back me up here, Tetsu!” 

Kuroo slouched down in his chair, arms folding back behind his head, “No can do, owl-head.” 

Tsukishima tipped his head toward Bokuto, “There’s better ways to get my attention.” Bokuto sputtered off into a choking cough and Kuroo belted out a sharp laugh. Akaashi just stared at him with a dark, knowing gaze. _Like a promise._ Tsukishima worried  
an ugly flush would start on the tips of his ears. 

Kuroo mimed wiping a tear from his eye, he gestured toward Tsukishima’s half eaten ramen, “Hey, you gotta build up strength somehow.”

“Hmm, pretending to be my parent, very appealing,” he made a big deal out of stabbing a cube of tofu. Bokuto let out a laugh then too, giving a jostle to his shoulder. Kuroo didn’t look cowed at all though, just settling back with his ever present smirk on his lips. 

Tsukishima really looked at the three of them then: at Bokuto’s blindingly bright smile, Akaashi’s hooded, heady eyes, and Kuroo’s tousled hair and smug expression _. So incredibly handsome_. The thought came to him unbidden and Tsukishima felt a momentary embarrassment— he’d noticed they were physically good looking, _sure,_ but something about this felt so much like a _date_. So close and intimate, late at night in a small restaurant like they were. 

But four people _didn’t_ go on dates, Tsukishima tried to convince himself: unless he’d found himself on some sort of weird, blind, double date. In such a case he’d have to figure out which one of them was supposed to be his— that thought left him deflating and a momentary selfishness coursed through him: _why the hell would he have to pick just one?_

He chased the thought away with a large swig of his water.

* * *

After they’d finished their meal and paid, they stumbled out in the cool night air with the sound of cicadas chittering. Tsukishima watched Bokuto link hands with Akaashi— so intimate and effortless. Something sour crawled up into a lump in Tsukishima’s throat. Then Kuroo came up behind them, throwing his arms over their shoulders and jostling them apart. Whatever strange, bitter thing had been growing in Tsukishima’s gut shriveled up into raw confusion.

He quickened his pace, focusing on the streetlights casting dewy shadows on the empty streets. He heard Bokuto laugh, bright and bubbling. He turned to see Kuroo pressing a _kiss_ against his jawline. Tsukishima’s throat felt like it could’ve closed up: with shock, awe, _envy_ , he didn’t really know.

Akaashi nudged Kuroo away with a shove to his shoulder, “Keep it up, Tetsurou, and he’ll carry on _all about you_ for the rest of the night.”

Bokuto puffed out his chest, “Hell yeah I will!” His grin looked more brilliant than the sun. Something tight and _wanting_ settled in the middle of Tsukishima’s chest. 

Kuroo let out a laugh, “That supposed to be a bad thing, Keiji?”

Akaashi sniffled pointedly, “For some of us.” 

On the other side of the road sat one lonely house— Tsukishima squinted through the darkness: the white paneling looked to be peeling, noticeable gaps peaked out in the roof’s shingles, and weeds stood tall and overgrown in the front yard. 

“Wanna hear a scary story?” Bokuto’s eyebrows wiggled. Tsukishima shrugged up a shoulder. 

Akaashi let out a sigh, “Are you going to tell it anyway?”

“Shh, _Akaashi_ ,” Bokuto lurched over and clamped his hand over his mouth. “It’s about a _haunted house_.” 

Akaashi sucked down and slipped out of his grasp, “Much like the one across the street?”

“Bingo, babe!”

Akaashi clicked his tongue, “ _Clique_.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Bokuto threw his arms up.

Kuroo tipped his head toward the house in question, “We could always take a look inside.”

“What? No,” Tsukishima’s eyebrows pinched down low. 

“Why, Tsukki, are you scared?” Kuroo slid into his space with barely an inch between them. Tsukishima’s mouth dropped into a frown.

“Sounds fun!” Bokuto nudged Kuroo with his elbow, “I’m game.”

Tsukishima scoffed, “It sounds _lame_.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes for good measure and then Kuroo tacked on, “You know, blondie, you don’t need to put on a brave face for us.” 

Tsukishima’s eyebrows pinched into a narrow furrow. “Well in that case,” Tsukishima pointed toward the house in question, “Lead the way.” 

He could’ve imagined the pucker of Kuroo’s lips or the deep purr of his voice, “My pleasure.”

The inside of the house smelt like a bad combination of mildew and rotted out wood. Tsukishima kicked one of the broken planks. 

Akaashi sidled up next to Bokuto, settling in close enough that his chin hooked over his shoulder, “This your idea of a hot date?” 

Bokuto twisted around, hands raising to rest low on Akaashi’s hips. Tsukishima’s breath caught in his throat. “Sure is!” Bokuto leaned closer to him, so close Tsukishima thought they might kiss, “Why? Is it working for you?”

“Mmhmm,” Akaashi hummed low in his throat and pointed to a particularly grimy looking mattress in the corner, “The decor is _something_.” 

Kuroo nudged the mattress with the tip of his toe. His nose wrinkled up. Tsukishima walked further into the room, fingers flicking against peeling wallpaper, “Fun all right.” 

“Oh,” Kuroo shot a grin toward him, “Don't be such a hard ass.” He reclined back to lean against the wall. He pretended to stare at his nails— like there would be some imaginary speck of dirt. Then his eyes flickered up: “Anyway I’m pretty sure _you’ve_ been awfully interested in us—“

Tsukishima frowned, “Don't flatter yourself.” But then he noticed Akaashi’s dark, knowing eyes looking at him too and his words clammed up in his throat. He crossed his arms, “And what if I am?” 

Kuroo took a step forward, hands held up in a parody of surrender, “I think you should say what you want.”

Tsukishima stared down his nose, “Fine then.” Interest and excitement colored through the coyness of Kuroo’s gaze. Tsukishima leaned toward him and smiled meanly, “What exactly is going on between the three of you?” He gestured with his chin from Kuroo to where Akaashi and Bokuto still stood close together. 

Bokuto waved a hand between himself and Akaashi, “We’re teammates,” he pointed to Kuroo, “Rooster-hair is our friend.”

Akaashi dropped his forehead into his palm, “Sometimes, Bo, you _really_ amaze me.”

“Thanks, Keiji!”

“Mmhmm,” Akaashi lifted up his face with a wry little smile, ”Your _obtuseness_ knows no limits.” 

Bokuto’s smile dimmed an inch, “My what now?”

Akaashi’s smile widened, “And therein lies my point.” Bokuto’s mouth fell open to gape.

“Hey, Tsukki,” Kuroo tucked his hands into his pant pockets, “I got a question for you: what did you want the answer to be?”

Tsukishima narrowed his eyes, “I was expecting something a little less,” he glanced to the side and shrugged up a shoulder, _“Lame.”_

“Hey, easy there with who you’re calling lame!” Bokuto pointed a thumb toward himself, “I don’t think anyone on our team has gotten into half the shit we have! Illicit inter- and intra- team romance—” Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed pointedly with interest. 

“Tsukishima,” Akaashi stepped toward him. His gaze looked curious and gunmetal dark. He came to a stop when they were a hair’s width apart. Tsukishima breathed in something warm and fragrant, which could’ve been his shampoo or the detergent on his clothes or just how he smelled— he inhaled sharply and Akaashi’s eyes momentarily lit up. 

Tsukishima cleared his throat, “What?” 

“You’re obvious,” Akaashi shot a glance over his shoulder with a smug little grin, “Even _if_ Bokuto can’t figure you out.” Tsukishima’s throat bobbed.

Bokuto’s nose wrinkled up, “C’mon, Akaashi!” 

“I think _Tsukki_ ,” the way his name came out patronizingly soft from Kuroo’s mouth should’ve disgusted him, instead it sent shivers down his spine, “Has a little crush on his upperclassmen.” 

“What?” Tsukishima’s mouth pinched into a tight frown and he jerked his chin up— he tried to stare at them like they were worthless. His lip slightly quivered from the thumping of his heart. 

Bokuto blinked rapidly, “Oh! Well, great! You’re pretty hot there yourself—” Tsukishima’s frown melted off his face. 

“He’s right, blondie.” Kuroo’s words sounded like a cat batting around a stuffed mouse. 

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed. He lifted up his wrist and purposefully scanned the watch face, “Not that this hasn’t been... _entertaining_ , but I need to go back to the school.”

Tsukishima had one foot out the door when he heard Akaashi’s whispers, “Mmm, good job scaring him off Kuroo.”

He could imagine Kuroo shrugging his shoulders just from the nonchalance in his tone, “Well, if he can’t handle it—”

Tsukishima pivoted around to stare at them, “Handle what?” Kuroo’s grin widened cat-got-canary proud. And Tsukishima _knew_ then: could just imagine the three of them tangled up together under sheets. He felt a flush being across the tips of his ears. His frown deepened in response. 

Bokuto laughed— not a mean sound, but one brilliantly bright and eager. Akaashi rolled his eyes and shoved at his shoulder, “You two idiots are a lot for anyone to put up with.” Bokuto puckered his lips up at him. Akaashi lightly smacked his shoulder and twisted away. But Tsukishima realized they still stood so close.

Tsukishima’s mouth pinched into a tight line, “So what? You’re all sleeping around together like some sleazy take on The Breakfast Club?” 

Kuroo laughed— clear and airy, with his stupid smug smile not budging an inch, “Why, blondie? That what you want?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Well, _Kuroo_ ,” He crossed his arms and leaned closer to stare in Kuroo’s eyes, “What if I say yes?” He settled back on his heels and looked from Akaashi to Bokuto. 

Bokuto whistled low under his breath, “Damn, Tsukki.”

Akaashi’s elbow nudged against his side, “Getting a little hot under the collar there, Bo?” Bokuto waved him off and stumbled away with a laugh.

Tsukishima stepped forward, his finger hooked into the front of Bokuto’s shirt and gently tugged him forward. Bokuto’s eyes widened with momentary surprise. Kuroo, the bastard, let out a shrill wolf whistle and clapped his hands together. 

Tsukishima refused to lose his nerve: he tipped down his head and pressed his mouth to Bokuto’s. Bokuto’s lips felt warm and dry— slightly chapped but otherwise soft. Tsukishima waited a moment, then Bokuto surged forward, tipping his head to the side and slotting their mouths together properly. He tasted tangy sweet, felt warm like the sun— so bright and vivid Tsukishima wondered how close he’d have to get to be burned. 

Tsukishima took a step back, resisting the urge to lick his lips, “Next time you want to _practice_ with me, I’m expecting something cooler.” He twisted on his heel and walked out of the building before they could stop him. 

Past the ringing in his ears he could hear only hear Kuroo’s answering laugh and Bokuto’s call, “Sure thing, Tsukki-poo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than my other works, so I’ll have the second/final chapter posted tomorrow :)


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey there, 11!” A grimace settled on Tsukishima’s face at the call. He twisted around to see Kuroo grinning at him with Bokuto and Akaashi by his side. He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets and other students, “You come here often?” 

Tsukishima sighed and glared even though his heart felt like it would crawl up into his throat. “Something you want, _Nekoma?”_ He felt a smug satisfaction at the casual indifference of his voice: he could pretend that he didn’t know them too. 

“I got something for you,” Kuroo grabbed Bokuto’s shoulders and steered him around. Bokuto let out a sqwuak of protest and Akaashi stared at them with his eyes hooded and amused. “Don’t move, owl-head.” 

Bokuto laughed but stayed still with his back facing Kuroo, “Hey—” Kuroo placed a piece of paper against his shoulder-blade which made him quiet. 

Akaashi rolled his eyes, “Look, Bo, something you’re good at—“

“Oh, c’mon, Akaashi—!”

“—Being a _whiteboard_ ,” Akaashi finished with a smug little smile that lit up his eyes. Bokuto looked like he wanted to argue again but stopped when Kuroo popped the cap of the market off. He held it in between his teeth and Tsukishima tried not to stare too closely at his mouth. 

When the felt tip pressed down on the paper Bokuto jerked his chin over his shoulder to try and look. “Oi, Tetsu, don’t get ink on my shirt.”

Kuroo laughed at him, “I promise I won’t, Bo. Just hold still.” Kuroo patted Bokuto’s bicep, “Alright, all done!” He pulled the paper away and folded it up into a crisp square. Then he turned toward Tsukishima and grinned when he realized he’d been staring at them.

Bokuto twisted to look back at his shoulder to make sure none of the ink bled through, “Akaashi, did the rooster get ink on me?”

Akaashi nodded solemnly, “Yes.” Bokuto looked horrified before he caught the wry look in Akaashi’s eyes. He ended up tugging his shirt off to check himself anyway and Tsukishima had to look away then— lest he get caught checking out Bokuto’s _very naked,extremely good looking_ chest. 

Tsukishima cleared his throat, “Well? Are you done wasting my time or—“ The words clammed up in his throat when Kuroo sauntered up closer to him.

Kuroo’s finger hooked into the waistband of his gym shorts. Tsukishima’s throat bobbed when he slipped the note into his shorts— _like dollar bills for a stripper._ A flush burned across the tips of Tsukishima’s ears and he glared at them on impulse. 

Kuroo leaned up close, breath hot on the shell of his ear, “We’ll see you then.” Then he drew back with his awful cocksure grin and just _left_. Bokuto at least waved at him before he and Akaashi went to their next practice match.

Tsukishima looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed that... _circus_. And yes, at least a few other students were still looking in his direction. Tsukishima glowered and walked toward the old, crusty water fountain at the back of the gym. He yanked the note out of his waistband and got to unfolding it.

Smeared across in thick black sharpie read:  
**Come to the 3rd Gym tonight after hours...  
If you can handle it **

Tsukishima’s eye twitched when he noticed the little _XO_ at the bottom. He crumpled up the paper and slouched back against the wall.

“Hey, Tsukishima!” Hinata bounded up next to him— Tsukishima pictured a very eager deer crossing the road, unknowingly about to be roadkill. “Wow! You seem to be really close with Nekoma’s—“

“—Don’t say it.” Tsukishima glared down his nose at him.

Hinata only barely deflated with his shoulders slumping, “Oh, no! I mean, that must be cool—“ Tsukishima brushed past him, purposely knocking into his shoulder. Hinata stumbled a bit but still continued to smile at him, “Hey! Can you introduce me to—“

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and pulled his headphones up over his ears. He tried not to think about the wadded up paper he’d shoved in his pocket. His heart ended up flip-flopping anyway.

* * *

Tsukishima exhaled sharply at the click of Akaashi closing the door. All the lights were off in the gym, barring an amber strip from the utility closet, Tsukishima tucked his hands up under his arms and squinted his eyes toward them. 

Tsukishima wrinkled up his nose, he jutted his chin toward the six-pack dangling from Kuroo’s fingers, “Where did you get that?”

Kuroo laughed and tugged one of the cans out of the plastic. “The coaches,” He held the beer out toward Bokuto.

“Stolen beer,” Akaashi swiped the can out of Kuroo’s hand before Bokuto could get it. _“Delicious,”_ his words dripped with sarcasm as he popped the can open. 

Bokuto blinked once at the empty space where the beer had been, he twisted to look at Akaashi taking a long drink, “Keiji,” his voice came out like a nasally, petulant whine. 

Kuroo held a can out to Tsukishima then, bouncing it up slightly with a jaunty wiggle. Tsukishima’s fingers closed on the lukewarm metal, “They brought alcohol to a school sanctioned event?”

“They have to drink themselves into a stupor somehow,” Akaashi shrugged up a shoulder, _“High school volleyball_.”

“Hey! Our matches are plenty exciting,” Bokuto puffed out his chest. He let out a soft grunt when Kuroo pushed a can against his chest.

Akaashi quirked up an eyebrow and said: “You’re right, Bokuto, plenty exciting for _the geriatric_.” Bokuto’s nose twitched and his mouth dropped open. 

Kuroo waved his hand, “Oh, ignore him, owl-head, you’re plenty... _exciting_.” Kuroo grinned, expression low and teasing— seductive enough that Tsukishima’s stomach did a somersault.

Bokuto’s mouth raised back into a pleased smile. “See! Thank you,” Bokuto nodded pointedly. He popped open the beer with a loud sizzle, foam spilling out over the sides. _“Shit,_ ” He wrung his hand, mouth closing over the hole momentarily to try and catch the foam slipping down the edge of the can. 

Tsukishima cradled the can in his hand and looked down at it: gleaming metallic edges, ugly lettering and bright logo plastered on the side. He could only imagine the sort of hideous drink hidden inside. He inhaled sharply before he took a tentative sip. His nose wrinkled up as the dry, grain-y taste of the alcohol burned down his throat. He turned his head to the side, stifling a cough against his shoulder. 

He turned a glower toward Kuroo, “This is disgusting, you realize.” Kuroo plucked the can out of his hands and took a big sip. He further made his point by licking his lips. Tsukishima tried not to stare too closely at the pink tip of his tongue. 

“Oh, we’ll get you to lighten up yet.”

Tsukishima quirked up an eyebrow, “Promises, promises.” 

Akaashi held a hand out toward Bokuto. Bokuto dug through the back pocket of his shorts. “Ah-ha!” He tossed the gym key to Akaashi. Akaashi caught it in a fist and twirled it around his finger, little fob on the end engraved with _3rd_ rattling. Kuroo whistled at the two of them, pupils blown wide in the dark. 

Akaashi slipped behind Tsukishima and he heard the soft chink of the gym door locking. Akaashi then came to stand in front of him, “Tell me if you want to stop, Kei.”

A rancid laugh bubbled up in his throat, “If you’re thinking of treating me like I’m _delicate_ ,” Tsukishima spit out the word with a diversive sneer, “I’m happy to walk out that door, _Keiji_.” Akaashi didn’t look at all rattled, just titled his head to the side before his hand closed on the nape of Tsukishima’s neck.

“Alright,” Akaashi tugged him down into a kiss. Tsukishima’s heart crawled up into his throat at the feel of him: warm and soft. A small noise escaped him when Akaashi’s thigh pressed between his legs. So _sure_ and thrillingly intimate.

Tsukishima didn’t mean too, but he thought of the half-hearted pawing he’d fallen into with Yamaguchi after a long night studying together: awkward bony limbs and sweaty hands and the sour taste of regret on his tongue the instant they’d started. But this felt _different—_ left Tsukishima’s heart racing and nearly delirious with light-headedness. 

Akaashi’s palm slipped down to rest on the small of his back— a warm, confident weight. He tasted like yuzu and brilliantly, deliciously like _togetherness_. Tsukishima tangled a hand up in the strands of short, dark hair at the base of his neck. Something dangerously close to fondness threatened to burst from his chest. 

Kuroo jerked his head to the side, “Wanna go to the gym mats?” Tsukishima’s nose wrinkled up because surely this would all be _better_ with a bed and not disgusting, bright blue mats a thousand kids had probably sweat on before. 

Bokuto shrugged up a shoulder, “Eh, sure, I’m easy.”

“Damn right you are,” Kuroo’s voice came out whisper soft and teasing. He leaned in close and threaded a hand up in the back of Bokuto’s hair. He pressed their mouths together and it sounded so...so _wet_. Tsukishima felt fairly confident he saw one of their tongues. 

Bokuto pulled away and collapsed down onto the pile of mats, already in the process of pulling his shirt up over head. Tsukishima’s throat felt dry and this time he couldn’t stop himself from looking from the broad expanse of his shoulders down to his trim hips. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his shorts and tucked his shorts down. Tsukishima _didn’t_ mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it: the flush from his chest carried down between his lips and he looked _so good_. 

Akaashi clicked his tongue, “You’re shameless, Bo.” Tsukishima startled when Kuroo’s arm slung around his shoulders.

Bokuto grinned at them and lounged on the mats like some kind of _god_ on a throne and not like a high school volleyball player on a _gym mat_. Kuroo flicked a tube at Bokuto. Bokuto managed to catch it and held it up proudly: lube, he realized with a dry swallow. Tsukishima almost expected Akaashi to make a jab about Bokuto fetching as well as a dog. 

He didn’t expect to see Akaashi stripping out of his tee too. Tsukishima’s throat bobbed and between his hips he ached. Akaashi dropped down on his knees next to Bokuto, he pressed a very quick and soft kiss to his mouth. 

Bokuto smiled, “Eh, Akaashi you wanna finger me and I’ll do you?” Akaashi rolled his eyes but plucked the lube out of his hands. Tsukishima felt his face heating up and he had to look away. Kuroo’s fingers stroked up his nape toward his hairline when their eyes locked.

Kuroo grinned at him, “Relax, Tsukki, we don’t bite.” But his smile showed off the points of his teeth and Tsukishima felt like all the air had left his lungs. 

Tsukishima glanced back to the floor and saw Akaashi’s fingers pressing up inside of Bokuto. Tsukishima let out a noise: something humiliating and close to a keen. Kuroo’s hand tugged him in close and then they were kissing. 

Tsukishima’s nose twitched at the smell of his cologne: something like sandalwood and dark cherry. Tsukishima sank into the contact: deliciously warm and _wet_. Kuroo’s teeth caught on his lower lip and Tsukishima could’ve swooned. Kuroo’s other hand slipped down to his lower back and pulled on his shirt. 

When they broke apart Tsukishima tried not to pant— lest he seem _desperate_ or something. He gripped the collar of his own shirt and hauled it up overhead before Kuroo could beat him to it. Kuroo grinned at him and leaned in close to press a kiss to the small of his throat. His mouth felt warm and soft and a moan bubbled up in Tsukishima’s throat. 

Tsukishima glanced to the side and felt disappointed when he realized he’d missed whatever _fingering_ had been going on between Bokuto and Akaashi. Kuroo’s teeth nibbled against the skin of his collarbone before he abruptly pulled back. 

Bokuto knelt on the mat, crooked smile on his mouth and watching with interest. Tsukishima tried not to stare between his legs. Akaashi got up to his feet, beautiful and _so very naked_. He stretched up an arm, looking suave and cooly confident with his head tipped to the side. 

Kuroo dug through the pocket of his shorts. He pinched a condom between his fingers. “Since it’s your first time with us, blondie, you got any requests?” Something about that little silver packet made things feel dangerously _real_ and Tsukishima wondered if anyone had ever died of anticipation before. 

Tsukishima glanced toward the side, with an unaffected, devil-may-care nonchalance, “I want to watch you together.”

A laugh bubbled up from Bokuto’s mouth, “What now?” Kuroo flicked the condom at Bokuto. He tumbled onto his side and barely managed to catch the packet. Bokuto held it up victoriously only for Kuroo to flick _another_ condom at his forehead. 

Tsukishima shook his head and tried to stop his voice from shaking when he repeated: “I want to watch the three of you.”

“Hey, I’m not opposed, blondie— but if you wanna watch a threesome, I recommend pornhub,” Kuroo grinned with all his cocksure arrogance. Tsukishima wrinkled up his nose, face pinched up tight like he’d sucked on a lime. Akaashi shot Kuroo a sideways glance. “Alright, alright,” Kuroo held up his palms in a parody of surrender, “We can put on a show for you.”

Tsukishima smiled smugly and gestured toward the floor, “Then what are you waiting for?” Kuroo rolled his eyes and moved toward the mat near Bokuto.

Kuroo stretched out on his back, shirt rolling up to show the flat planes of his stomach and the pale vee of his hipbones. Bokuto all but collapsed atop him with legs moving to straddle his hips. 

Kuroo’s fingers stroked up against the warm, bare skin of his thighs. Bokuto quivered with pent up energy— Kuroo’s hand closed over his flank and the floodgates spilt open: Bokuto’s fingers scrambled against the collar of Kuroo’s tee to yank him into a searing kiss. It looked intimate and warm, sounded so sordid—

The tips Tsukishima’s ears flushed red, unable to take his eyes off the firm muscle of Bokuto’s naked body; the way he crested forward like a wave, mouth wet and wanting against Kuroo’s. Tsukishima swallowed past a sudden dryness in his throat.

“Like what you see, Kei?” Akaashi’s voice spoke from behind him. Tsukishima tipped his head to look back and his breath caught in his throat. Akaashi took a step forward and closed the meager distance between them. A repressed moan vibrated in his throat at the feeling of a warm body settling directly behind him. He struggled not to lose himself among the feeling of trim hips pressing against him and a leg slotting between his own. Tsukishima wondered if Akaashi had to pop up onto his tiptoes to reach and _that_ thought had a smug little smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Tsukishima cleared his throat and stared down his nose, “What do you think?” 

Akaashi’s fingers skirted up above the waistband of his shorts. Goosebumps broke out across Tsukishima’s skin. Then his hand dipped down lower, palm closing over him. Tsukishima’s lashes fluttered, mouth twisting up with another moan that threatened to escape. Even with the barrier of his shorts Akaashi’s hand felt searingly hot on the growing hardness. Tsukishima felt lightheaded with how quickly blood rushed down to his hips.

 _“I think,”_ Akaashi’s voice sounded heady against his ear, “I have my answer.” Tsukishima stifled a noise when Akaashi backed away. The sudden chill on his bare back left him shivering. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, heart ready to jump right out of his veins. 

When he looked back to the veritable human knot forming on the floor, Kuroo had rucked his shorts down low around his legs, his shirt thrown to some far off corner in the room. Akaashi dropped down to his knees. He picked up one of the packets Kuroo had dropped and ripped it open with his teeth. Bokuto loudly whistled at him.

Kuroo grinned widely at him, “Hey, Keiji, put it on me with your mouth.” Akaashi quirked up an eyebrow.

“Get Bokuto to do it,” Akaashi looked to the side and shrugged up a shoulder, “He likes feeling important.” 

Bokuto smiled widely, “Hey, I’m happy to, man!” Bokuto took the condom from Akaashi and shuffled down between Kuroo’s legs. Tsukishima didn’t get how he did it without ripping the thing, but he felt lightheaded when he watched Bokuto take Kuroo in his mouth in one fluid motion. 

“Oh, _shit_!” Kuroo let out a sharp gasp. Tsukishima hoped they couldn’t hear his own sharp intake of breath. He wanted to sit down or but his legs felt like jello and he worried he didn’t know how to walk anymore. He exhaled a shaky breath and tried to remind himself to _breathe_. 

Bokuto fumbled with another one of the packets, trying to rip it open before he gave up and used his teeth. “This packaging sucks,” his voice came out muffled around the wrapper before Tsukishima heard the rip of plastic. Bokuto grinned and ambled back up to straddle Kuroo’s hips. He rolled the other condom down his own length lightning quick. 

Akaashi rolled his eyes at Bokuto. “ _Whiny_ ,” He looked lithe and effortless as he tossed a leg over Kuroo’s stomach, settling with his back to Bokuto’s front. 

Kuroo flicked Akaashi’s thigh, “ _Heavy._ ” He made a point, back arching up against the weight of the two bodies on top of him. 

Akaashi bent over, hips pushing firmly back against Bokuto’s— a sharp hiss of air escaped Bokuto’s mouth and one of his hands firmly closed on Akaashi’s hip. Akaashi’s hands planted down on either side of Kuroo’s head and he arched a brow in challenge.

Tsukishima swallowed, “They aren’t even putting their weight on you.” He gestured to where both of their knees and legs were planted solidly on the ground.

Bokuto laughed, “See, rooster-head, even _Tsukki_ thinks you’re being dramatic.” He reached a hand back and patted Kuroo’s knee.

Kuroo flexed his hips upward again, “You going to make it worth my while?” 

“Damn right I am!” Bokuto’s fingers adjusted their grip on Akaashi and pulled his hips in closer. He looked up at Tsukishima, “Yo, Tsukki, you wanna come in a little closer? Better view.” His eyebrows wiggled.

Tsukishima dropped down to his knees— sitting close enough he could almost feel their warmth. Like this, he could see the flushed hardness between Bokuto’s legs starting to press into Akaashi. Akaashi’s back bowed, hips snapping back. Bokuto let out a surprised groan, fingers scrambling for purchase on Akaashi’s hipbone.

A sly smile wormed its way across Akaashi’s mouth. When he spoke his voice came out coy and soft, “You ready, Tetsu?”

Kuroo returned the smile with a wide grin, “You know I am.”

Bokuto tugged Akaashi’s hips down with him, reaching behind himself to guide Kuroo. His eyes momentarily flickered closed when the head of Kuroo’s length pressed on his entrance. One of Kuroo’s hands rubbed against Bokuto’s thigh. “You’re so good, Bo,” his voice came out gravelly and deep.

A soft laugh caught in Bokuto’s throat, “You got that right!” His chest heaved on a sharp inhale as he sunk downward. He paused a moment, body quaking and thrumming with arousal. Then he rolled his hips, up and forward in a languidly smooth motion. A series of moans spilled from their mouths.

Tsukishima looked on with wide, eager eyes: he wondered what it felt like to have Kuroo inside him with his own length pushing into Akaashi. His throat bobbed but his mouth still tasted like sandpaper. 

Together the three of them looked whipcord strong, all tense muscle and beautiful skin. A low groan slipped out of Tsukishima’s mouth. Bokuto’s head tipped back and he grinned at him. An ugly, blotchy flush spread across Tsukishima’s cheeks. He felt stupid, “You’re beautiful,” He tried to explain, instead a sour taste rushed into his mouth

Kuroo’s hand reached out toward him, fingers curling around his wrist, “Oh yeah, Specs?” His voice came out breathless.

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed, “Clearly.” Still, he allowed Kuroo to tug him in even closer. Tsukishima stared down his nose as Kuroo’s hand moved to flick at the elastic of his shorts.

“You want to take these off?”

Tsukishima sighed as though he were doing them some great favor, “I suppose.” He rolled his shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion lest he get cold feet. Akaashi leaned back slightly, Bokuto moving so his chin hooked over his shoulder— and they both looked at _him_ with dark, hungry eyes. Something electric-sharp buzzed its way through Tsukishima’s body.

Kuroo grinned up at him, “Sit on my face.”

Tsukishima’s mind blanked, mouth hanging ajar, “What?”

“C’mon,” Kuroo gave a tug to his wrist, “It’ll be fun. _Trust me.”_

Tsukishima didn’t exactly trust him but still moved to straddle Kuroo’s shoulders before he could think better of it. Tsukishima planted a hand on Akaashi’s thigh in an effort to steady himself. He felt ridiculous, flush burning its way down his chest. Then Kuroo tugged his hips down lower and a set of teeth nibbled against his inner thigh. A shocked moan spilled out of his mouth, his fingernails accidentally digging into Akaashi’s leg. 

He could feel his glasses slipping down his nose and starting to fog up. Akaashi reached up and plucked them off his nose. Tsukishima wanted to tell him to _be careful_ but couldn’t force the words out. Akaashi tossed his glasses down somewhere to the side off the mat. 

And Tsukishima didn’t care because the flat of Kuroo’s tongue dragged against his perineum and his mind whited out. When he came back his body felt like it was on fire. He could just see the sharp roll of Bokuto’s hips, watched Akaashi bear back into the motion, and he _felt_ Kuroo’s answering moan against his skin. Then the warm muscle of Kuroo’s tongue stroked toward the seam of his ass.

Tsukishima held back a sharp moan, body tipping forward and nearly shaking with anticipation. Tsukishima couldn’t help it, moving his hand to latch onto Akaashi’s arm— like this he could feel their bodies moving together, the rhythm had to be off, sloppy and erratic; but Tsukishima didn’t care. When Kuroo pushed inside Tsukishima couldn’t hold back his cry. 

He felt Akaashi’s fingers ghosting along his hips before sliding down between his legs. A groan quivered in his throat when Akaashi took him in hand. The skin of his palm felt calloused and warm and Tsukishima longed to sink into the contact. His pelvis throbbed and he _wanted_ so badly it hurt.

Kuroo’s tongue felt so wet and burning hot so Tsukishima settled against it with trembling thighs. Kuroo’s hand gently squeezed his hip in encouragement. Tsukishima didn’t know what to say or what to do so he just ended up exhaling and arching up against Akaashi’s fist. He thought he could hear Bokuto murmuring some sort of encouragement but he couldn’t focus on the words.

Pleasure bubbled up in his gut so fast. He felt like he could’ve been standing up on a cliff, ready to fall off at any moment. Akaashi’s fist twisted on him, thumb pressing down on him in a way that had stars bursting across his vision. Tsukishima blinked rapidly, mouth twisting to try and stifle the loud moan he could feel in his throat. 

Tsukishima ended up finishing embarrassingly fast, but he didn’t even have time to be upset because he ended up blacking out in a cascade of hot, liquid pleasure. 

Afterward, Tsukishima collapsed down on his back, his hips felt sticky and _gross_ and his ass felt _wet_ , but he couldn’t make himself regret it. His whole body felt too warm and a _thrumming_ vibrated through his muscles like aftershocks. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair in an effort to push the short strands back. He fumbled for his glasses and shoved them onto his nose.

He saw the three of them all sitting up and looking at him. He felt momentarily disappointed he’d checked out at the end and missed them finishing. Kuroo looked smug and he didn’t know what the hell Akaashi could be thinking, but Bokuto looked awfully warm and cute— 

Bokuto sprawled out next to him, his eyes hooded and sleepy. Something about him looking so soft made Tsukishima want to cuddle up next to him. He resisted the urge. Bokuto smiled at him anyway, “So, you have fun, Tsukki?”

Kuroo’s grin widened, “We lost you there for a moment.”

Tsukishima looked pointedly at Bokuto and could only manage a single word, _“Yes.”_ Someone laughed at him but Tsukishima felt too exhausted to bother figuring out which of the bastards did it. “I’m staying here for awhile,” Tsukishima decided and closed his eyes. 

“Tsukki, babe, you’re covered in cum,” Bokuto rested his chin up on his palm and leaned over him, “ _In the gym._ ”

Tsukishima opened one eyelid very indignantly at him, “Does it look like I care, Bokuto?” 

Kuroo laughed and flounced down onto Bokuto’s other side. “Eh, Akaashi, set an alarm on your phone— as long as we’re outta here by four no one should know.” Tsukishima reached out, long fingers snagging on Akaashi’s wrist and hauling him down into the pile with them. Akaashi sighed and settled down next to him. 

Bokuto’s voice tickled the shell of his ear, “So, Tsukki, wanna do this again some time?” 

“Be quiet, I’m going to sleep,” Tsukishima pried one eye open again, “But yes, I would.”

* * *

“Oi, I’m starving!” Bokuto leaned half-across the table, trying to stab a chopstick through a chunk of fried tofu on Kuroo’s plate. “Like I’m so hungry I could eat everyone here.” Sweat still beaded his hairline, and the neckline of his tee looked damp. 

Kuroo rolled his eyes and pushed the plate closer. He let a smug little smile play on his mouth as he winked, “I have something you could... _eat_ , Bokuto.” 

Bokuto finally skewered the tofu and popped it into his mouth. He swallowed before saying: “Oh yeah, rooster?” He stabbed another piece and pointed it at Kuroo, “What do you got for me?”

Kuroo planted his palms on the table, leaning closer to him. Like this, Kuroo knew some of the other students had to be watching them making a scene, but he didn’t care. _Hell_ , the idea of them watching had his blood pumping.

Akaashi’s palm landed on his shoulder and hauled him back down into his seat. “Keep it in your pants, Kuroo,” Akaashi brushed past him to take a seat next to Bokuto. He shrugged up a shoulder and glanced off to the side, “I can’t babysit you and Bokuto.” 

“Wait!” Bokuto’s head jerked to the side and he waved an arm up into the air, “Hey! Tsukki-poo!”

Kuroo glanced over his shoulder and saw Tsukishima. His knuckles were ice-white from their death grip on his tray and he seemed to be glaring daggers at anyone who dared to look at him. But then he saw _them_ , with Bokuto flailing in his seat, and he walked toward them anyway. 

Kuroo would’ve expected him to turn the other way; using clorox wipes and bleach to try and scrap crusty cum off gym mats before dawn hadn’t exactly been the sexiest way to leave things that morning. But no, Tsukishima set his tray down with a loud, metallic clang right next to Kuroo anyway. He didn’t look any of them in the eye as he sat down. Tsukishima cleared his throat, “This is alright, isn’t it?” 

“What, Specs, you sitting with us—?” Kuroo had just started to ask when Bokuto spoke at the same time.

“—Of course!” Bokuto grinned at him with blindingly white teeth. 

“— Eh, anyway, there’s no need to get shy now,” Kuroo tacked on for good measure. Tsukishima wrinkled his nose up at him and frowned. Akaashi kicked his shin under the table. Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh and rolled his eyes. 

Still, Tsukishima cleared his throat again, “Do you want to meet up again tonight?” 

“Hell yes!” Bokuto just about fell out of his seat with excitement. Akaashi sighed and grabbed onto his sleeve to make sure he didn’t actually go careening off onto the ground. Tsukishima nodded resolutely and swiped up a chunk of rice. 

Kuroo threw an arm casually over his shoulders, “You know, blondie, we can have a lot more nights like that.” 

Tsukishima’s index finger pressed his glasses further up on his nose, “There you go making promises again.” 

Akaashi raised an eyebrow, “Worried you’ll end up disappointed, Kei?” Tsukishima frowned but shook his head.

Bokuto waved a hand toward Akaashi, “Nah, babe, Tsukki likes us too much for that!” Tsukishima frowned but he didn’t argue and his eyes looked awfully hopeful.

Kuroo winked at him, “Oi, Tsukki,” the corner of Tsukishima’s upper lip curled back. Kuroo’s grin widened, “We aren’t gonna disappoint you, so you can relax.” 

Tsukishima frowned but a flush burned its way across his face. He looked to the side, _“More promises.”_ Kuroo smiled and thought of the millions of ways the three of them would get to prove him wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t normally write very explicit stuff, but I really enjoy writing for these four so I ventured out of my comfort zone a bit— So I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!
> 
> Thank you for any comments/kudos!  
> Part of what me made so excited to write in this fandom again were some of the sweet comments I received on my other fics— I always read and appreciate them


End file.
